


Trick

by signifying_nothing



Category: K-pop, VIXX
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 19:21:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5714149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/signifying_nothing/pseuds/signifying_nothing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which sanghyuk decided to play a prank to teach hakyeon a lesson, but it didn't go the way he planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trick

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this gifset.](http://ambernambre-shinvixxee.tumblr.com/post/137217544155/wonsiks-hamster-taek-anon-asked-how-would)
> 
>  

 

Sanghyuk was not a God. None of them were. Nor were they descendants of Gods. Sanghyuk preferred to think of himself as an Aspect, or maybe an Avatar (if only that word didn't make him think immediately of cartoons or internet memes.) He was not Hermes. But he was _of_ Hermes.

Which was why he'd found the entire situation so amusing, even though perhaps... it wasn't, anymore. Hakyeon was annoying enough on his own, but he was of Hestia _and_ Demeter; hearth, home, family; earth, fertility, all that womanly stuff. Sanghyuk did not enjoy the way Hakyeon mother-henned them all, he did not _like_ being babied, and so he'd simply left, abandoned them, creating a hole in Hakyeon's balanced world, just to see what it would do to him.

He had to admit, it was entertaining at first. To see Hakyeon panic, work himself into a frenzy as quietly as possible until Wonsik asked him what was wrong. _Sanghyuk is gone,_ Hakyeon had nearly whimpered, a hand over his mouth like he was a mother who had truly lost her son, and perhaps that was where the trick should have stopped. Perhaps it was then that Sanghyuk should have reappeared from thin air with a silly smile and an only half-sincere apology. Hakyeon would have been cross, but he would not have been _unhappy._

Hakyeon was unhappy, now. Sanghyuk had forgotten one very important detail about his older friend. Being of Demeter, even only in part, meant that Hakyeon took loss... Badly. To say the least. Not only that, but his mood could, _would,_ directly influence their house as a whole, or the passing of seasons. In mythology, Demeter had watched Persephone leave her to command the Underworld at the side of her husband, Hades. There were documents that claimed Demeter had never truly recovered from it, had never been able to... Feel. The same as she had before. It was why winter still doggedly pursued spring further and further every year. This unfortunate trait echoed in her aspects. 

Sanghyuk had always been a bad judge of when to stop teasing. Whether it was prodding at Taekwoon and Hongbin, badgering Wonsik or poking fun at Hakyeon, he'd never known when to stop.

He should have stopped this days ago, but walking back to the house where Hakyeon's unhappiness had settled like mist seemed impossible. The heavy quiet put too much pressure on his chest.

“When _are_ you coming back, anyway,” Jaehwan asked, leaning forward from where he sat against a tree, bottles of wine littered about his legs. He'd been eager to escape the house also, Sanghyuk could see, sitting at the edge of the property and drinking himself into a happy stupor. “He'll feel much better if you just go and apologize.”

“And he'll continue being the way he was before, I don't want that.” Sanghyuk sat beside Jaehwan, took one of the bottles that was not quite empty and yet would never be empty and tipped it into his mouth. Jaehwan had good taste. Thick, sweet, red. “I want him to stop treating me like a child.”

“I'm not sure he can help that,” Jaehwan replied. “He is the Mother.”

“He is not _my_ mother,” Sanghyuk hissed, and Jaehwan laughed.

“He is the all-mother. We should consider ourselves lucky he isn't of Hera. Could you imagine how intolerable he would be, then?”

“I don't want—”

“ _You,_ ” Hongbin's voice came like the snap of a whip and Sanghyuk flinched. He'd been hoping Hongbin wouldn't notice the traces of his aura, had hoped his winged shoes might save him from the hassle of dealing with Hakyeon's closest friend. “How _dare_ you.”

“How dare I what,” Sanghyuk said, rounding to look at Hongbin, close and blazing with fury, beautiful rage. “How dare I want to be treated like an adult, how dare I want to be independent of our _mother dearest?_ ”

Sanghyuk expected the slap, and wasn't disappointed. The impact cracked his head to one side. Hongbin, of Aphrodite, was more simply of love, and that included the love Hakyeon had for them, motherly, gentle and absolute. The strike stung, but Hongbin hadn't put all of his strength into it. Not even close.

“You _apologize_ to him,” Hongbin said, trembling, eyes wide and bright. “He is in _agony._ How dare you do this, so close to frost, so close to winterfall. You _know_ he is already so delicate--”

“He should be able to handle himself, he's a grown man--”

“He cannot help what he is!”

“Neither can I!”

“Guys,” Jaehwan's voice was small. The two of them looked down at him and Sanghyuk saw where Jaehwan was looking and felt himself start to shrink. If one of them was closer to Hakyeon than Hongbin, it was Taekwoon. He stood there, silent, gaze sharp as needles and Sanghyuk felt his protests silence, felt his heart ache. Taekwoon was of the Wisest herself, Athena, and the accusation in his face was like a silver-tipped spear through the chest.

There were a few long, unbearably tense moments of silence.

“Hakyeon is with Wonsik,” he said, his voice light, high and mercurial. “I advise you rectify the situation before it gets any worse.” His gaze moved to Hongbin, and then to Jaehwan, smiling stupidly up at the older man. “Come with me.”

“I'm drinking,” Jaehwan protested.

“I can see that. Come with me. Now.”

Jaehwan whined, but Taekwoon stepped between Hongbin and Sanghyuk to grab at his arms and drag him up, lifting him over one shoulder. He stepped back and Jaehwan giggled as he tapped the bottle in his hand against the back of Taekwoon's thigh. “The two of you. Stop arguing. Hongbin, call Seokjin, would you please. And Sanghyuk.”

Sanghyuk flinched.

“Go and apologize. He is devastated.”

Devastated.

Sanghyuk hadn't meant for the trick to get so out of hand. It was just supposed to teach Hakyeon a lesson, that Sanghyuk was an adult, that he could leave when he pleased, that he needed no permission, no help or guidance from Hakyeon, but. He watched Taekwoon walk away with Jaehwan singing drunkenly over his shoulder and Hongbin speaking quietly to his side, and almost decided not to see Hakyeon just to spite him. Sharp Taekwoon, who thought he knew everything. Sly, smart Taekwoon, who saw all and spoke little. Damn him. _Damn_ him.

But... Devastated. Sanghyuk hadn't thought this prank through. It hadn't been his intention to _hurt_ Hakyeon. He hadn't thought it would bother him so much. But it was rare that Taekwoon chose his words rashly, and so it was time for the trick to end.

He walked back towards the house—on a large property that housed many of their kind, tucked safe away from the humans they could influence or harm. They lived to the easternmost side, close to the edge, where the trees turned thick and black and misdirection kept them from being found. The house was large, Victorian in style, most likely Hakyeon's influence. Grey, the shutters white, the porch huge and covered, it was a beautiful place and Sanghyuk was glad to call it his home, even if... Even if Hakyeon annoyed him with his mothering and his stupid... Stupid.

He felt the mire the second he got on the steps, the cold damp of Hakyeon's unbelievably potent emotions infecting the house. He was usually so bright, so happy, it was rare that his mood swung so low as to have a reaction as intense as this one, and Sanghyuk felt a chill down his spine as he stepped inside and walked down the hallway.

Hakyeon's rooms were on the ground floor, with a large fireplace built into the wall for heat, and tall windows to let in the sun. The light seemed cold as it passed through the glass, and as he stood just outside the doorway Sanghyuk could see Hakyeon resting against Wonsik, looking listless and pale. He looked weak and tired. _Demeter never recovered from the loss of her daughter,_ Sanghyuk remembered, and he stepped into the room, the reaction immediate and bright.

The fire in the hearth, previously smoldering embers, burst into hot flame, flaring up as high as the brick was built before settling. Wonsik whirled around to face him, eyes dark and knowing but Hakyeon. Hakyeon's skin lost it's sickly pallor, he jerked up from the somewhat ancient lounge and turned towards the door, eyes already red and shining and whether it was from anger or relief, Sanghyuk didn't know.

He did know that he felt even smaller and more foolish than he had before, looking down at the floor even as Hakyeon embraced him around the shoulders and hugged him so tightly it should have hurt. Sanghyuk's mortal mother had never bothered attempting to treat him this way. She had refused to hold him accountable, blamed everything he did on his “condition” and so when the chance came to send him away she had grabbed it. Sanghyuk had come here at sixteen, desperately homesick, and Hakyeon had opened his arms and Sanghyuk had run into them, crying like a child for the last time. He hated himself for... Forgetting.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, wishing he hadn't taken so long to come back. Hakyeon's hand was warm and soft in his hair and Sanghyuk heard Wonsik leave the room, close the door behind himself. “I'm sorry, I didn't.”

“Shh,” Hakyeon replied, his cheek to Sanghyuk's neck. Sanghyuk had outgrown him, at some point. He'd gotten taller and Hakyeon had remained the same, unchanged since that first meeting between the two of them. “Shh, I'm sorry, Sanghyukah, I'm—I know I'm not--”

“I'm not mad,” Sanghyuk hurried to say, when Hakyeon seemed like he might burst into tears at any moment. “I'm not—I'm not mad, Hakyeon, I just—I just wanted, and I didn't _think._ ”

“Do you ever,” Hakyeon asked, easing away and smiling up at Sanghyuk, his eyes bright and glittering. He was going to cry, Sanghyuk knew it. “Are you all right? I thought—something happened to you, you were _kidnapped_ or--”

“Who's going to kidnap me, Hakyeon,” Sanghyuk asked, laughing a little and horrified to hear that he sounded a bit choked, himself. “I'm six feet tall.”

“Aah,” Hakyeon nodded, reaching up to rub at his eyes and Sanghyuk felt his stomach fall through the floor. “Aah, of course. I forgot. You're an adult now, aren't you, Sanghyukah. Not my little son.”

“Hakyeon,” he started, but Hakyeon was already getting up on his toes to kiss his forehead. All was forgiven, as simply as that. Sanghyuk felt like he might throw up. He did not deserve to be so well-loved by this man, this all-mother who watched over households and pregnant women and the hearth that kept every home lit and warm and waiting. “Hakyeon, I'm _sorry._ ”

“Don't be sorry,” Hakyeon replied, and Sanghyuk thought it was rather a bit late for that. “I. I'm just glad you're _all right_.” Sanghyuk hadn't left a note. Hadn't said goodbye, hadn't done anything, just... Disappeared, and he hadn't thought about how that would look, either. Of course Hakyeon had arrived at the worst possible conclusion, of course he'd thought Sanghyuk had been hurt, kidnapped, killed. Like Sanghyuk was his child, and not a grown man, capable of taking care of himself. “Thank the Gods above.”

“I didn't mean to scare you,” Sanghyuk whispered, and Hakyeon kissed his forehead, his cheeks, the end of his blunt nose.

“You're forgiven,” Hakyeon assured, and Sanghyuk felt the tension draining out of him. “But, Sanghyukah. Next time you want... Me to change my behavior. Please, just come and ask me? I'll probably never stop... Treating you like my child, but. You're my adult child now, aren't you. You can take care of yourself.”

“Yes,” Sanghyuk said. Hakyeon smiled up at him, and Sanghyuk felt warmth bubbling up from inside, felt Hakyeon's happiness like the soft glow of a candle. The fog over their home lifted, and Hakyeon's cheeks were blushed a beautiful pink. Sanghyuk pecked him there, blushing furiously and working very hard not to think about how stunning Hakyeon looked when he was happy.

He wasn't prepared to think about that.

“Come on,” Hakyeon said. “I'll make something to eat.” He headed out into the hallway and Sanghyuk swallowed hard, decided to blame Hongbin for whatever strange thing was wiggling about in his belly and making him notice the way Hakyeon's hair moved around his cheeks, the way his hands gripped the doorhandle, and... And the way his ass looked in those jeans.

 _Motherfucker,_ he thought to himself, and then groaned aloud. This was _not_ happening. Whatever it was, it was Hongbin's fault, and it was Not. Happening.

Not happening.

_Not._

 


End file.
